


Cries

by mpb



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:33:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mpb/pseuds/mpb





	Cries

_The Wolf Bitch of Winterfell_ is what Walder Frey calls her when her army has taken the Twins and she stands before him with the newly reforged Ice and a great direwolf that they found--not dead, as many were led to believe--in the dungeons with burns and whip lashes that rivalled those that decorated the Greatjon's. 

Sansa is as cold as the Wall itself as she hands down her sentence to each and every Frey of the Crossing, none would see another day was what she vowed to her people and she would see it done. Grey Wind delivered her sentences, for she thought it fit that the symbol of House Stark would see its vengeance done. 

Lord Walder's last words had been a curse upon her and her house under the New Gods. Sansa had whispered that Starks do not follow the New Gods, and had watched as Grey Wing gave him a slow and painful death.

The blood had stained her hem of her gown.

Then a great call went up through the ranks of her 50, 000 Vale men, as well as the Northern and Riverland Lords who had been freed from the dungeons.

 _"The Queen in the North! The Queen in the North! The Red Wolf of Winterfell! The Queen in the North!_ "

Sansa thought she could learn to love her new titles. 

* * *

 

"So the _Whore of the North_ returns!" Roose Bolton had called down to her from the battlements of Winterfell as she rode in front of her 50, 000 Vale men, 25, 000 Riverlanders, and a number of freed Northerners with Grey Wing snarling by her side.

The flayed men refused to treat with her and discuss their surrender, so she had no choice but to desecrate their numbers entirely. Three-score of men had been led through a hidden tunnel in the Wolfswood, deep into the crypts of Winterfell, where they sacked the castle as if they were the Kings of Winter come to put the rightful Queen on the throne. 

Sansa thought that the analogy is not entirely incorrect. 

Roose Bolton battled with her men like someone crazed as two score of men took and held each of the gate houses, while the final score attempted to hold them off long enough for reinforcements to ride in. 

It was once the Northern Lords realized who was at the gates, that the Stark banner flew high outside the walls of Winterfell, that they rose up against the Bolton men and waged a war from inside the First Keep itself.

They had succeeded, but not without significant loss.

The Lord of the Dreadfort had been pushed to his knees before the Queen in the North, who had ridden into battle shortly behind her host, who wore a beautiful gown of Stark white with grey trim. She wore no cloak, she was ice itself, ice didn't feel the cold.

When asked for his final words, the Leach Lord had spat blood on her hem and cursed her by the Old Gods and the New.

Sansa whispered that the Old Gods were the Gods of the North, the Gods of the First Men. How could the Gods of her own blood curse her? 

She had him taken to the Godswood, before the Heart Tree to preform his sentence in full.

Grey Wind had the pleasure of preforming the execution, as he had for Lord Walder. 

It was as the blood of the Leach Lord soaked into the hem of her dress that Sansa thought she saw a glimpse of Robb in Grey Wind's eyes.

A call went up then that Sansa swore could be heard from the Neck to the Wall.

" _The Red Wolf of Winterfell! The Queen who took back the North! The Queen of the North!_ "

* * *

It took Sansa no time to recognize her sister when she stepped into the First Keep requesting an audience with The Red Wolf. 

"Sister..." she had whispered, gripping Grey Wind's fur so tightly and leaning on him so heavily that without him she would have toppled over.

"Your Grace' Arya had said with a nod of the head and a smirk on her lips. 'The Red Wolf of Winterfell, The Queen in the North, The Queen who took back the North... I heard tales, Sansa, all the way in Braavos. I had to see if it was true, I was sure it was a lie. My sister loved knights and princes and stories and songs... my sister could never order the death of thousands' Arya had looked up then, Stark grey locking with Tully blue 'and yet..."

A sob had tore through the Queen then. She sputtered and sobbed her way through her apology, the one she had been practicing for years... just in case.

Arya had embraced her fiercely as Sansa sobbed that she had been a horrid, vile sister and that--if given the chance--she would make everything different.

"We're all that is left, sister. I forgive you all your failings, for you have restored the Stark name... you won the North, sister." 

When Sansa organized a feast a moons turn later to welcome Princess Arya back to the North the Northern Lords had risen the cry.

" _Starks of the North! She Wolves of Winterfell!_ "

Sansa thought it was the sweetest cry of them all. 

 


End file.
